


I Can Probably Reassure You This Idea Was All Mine

by serenelystrange



Category: Leverage
Genre: F/M, Fluff and Humor, Ice Skating, Implied Sexual Content, Leverage Secret Santa Gift Exchange 2019, M/M, Multi, just fun dumb fluff y'all
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-04
Updated: 2020-12-04
Packaged: 2021-03-09 21:55:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,375
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27873413
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/serenelystrange/pseuds/serenelystrange
Summary: “I just want it noted,” Hardison says, eyeing the crowd in front of him warily, “when I crack my head open, that I told you this was a bad idea.”
Relationships: Alec Hardison/Parker/Eliot Spencer
Comments: 12
Kudos: 59
Collections: Leverage Secret Santa Exchange (Mod Gifts)





	I Can Probably Reassure You This Idea Was All Mine

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sasuhina_gal](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sasuhina_gal/gifts).



“I just want it noted,” Hardison says, eyeing the crowd in front of him warily, “when I crack my head open, that I told you this was a bad idea.”

Parker snorts in amusement and rolls her eyes over at Eliot, who looks only vaguely concerned with Hardison’s spiel.

“Don’t talk about cracking your head open in front of all the kids,” he says, gesturing to the sea of brightly colored coats, hats and mittens that move in a mostly synchronized circle around the ice skating rink.

“Yeah,” Parker adds, “you’ll damage their tiny psyches.”

“You know what else will damage their psyches?” Hardison asks, waving his arms out only a little bit dramatically. “My brain matter splattered all over the ice!”

“When you crack your head open,” Eliot says.

“Exactly,” Hardison says, nodding resolutely.

“Buck up!” Parker says, reaching over and swatting Hardison soundly on his butt. The sound and impact is muffled by Hardison’s long puffy coat, but he glares over at her anyway.

“Rude,” he says.

“I’m adorable,” Parker teases, grinning over at him from under her fuzzy blue winter hat.

“Yeah, yeah,” Hardison says, deflating, because damn it, she’s right.

“Let’s just get this over with,” he says. “And then we’re getting hot cocoa. I don’t even care if it comes from Starbucks, as long as it’s warm.”

“Like hell are we going to Starbucks,” Eliot says vehemently.

Before they can get into the familiar argument of restaurant options, a group of kids rushes past them, muttering under their breaths about stupid adults blocking the way. They decide to get a move on before Parker knee-caps a ten year old for shoving.

“See?” Parker says as they glide slowly along the rink, “It’s not so bad.”

Hardison doesn’t reply, too focused on gripping the side of the rink as he shuffles forward little by little.

“I thought you said you’d been ice skating before,” Eliot says. The cocky bastard is effortlessly skating backwards as he talks, and Hardison maybe hates him just a little bit in this moment.

“When I was like 6!” Hardison replies. “And there weren’t so many people last time to see me fall on my ass.”

“Hey,” Parker says, gently, “I’m not going to let you fall on your ass. Or any other body parts.”

Hardison looks over at her, demeanor softening despite the stubbornness he’s trying to hold on to.

“I don’t want to hurt you if I fall,” he replies, gesturing to the not inconsiderable height difference between them.

Parker just smirks and pulls Hardison away from the wall, kicking at his ice skates at the same moment, so that he tips over and begins to fall.

Hardison looks up at her with wide eyes as gravity starts to take hold, only to pause when he realizes he’s not falling anymore.

Parker has one toe planted firmly in the ice, and is gripping Hardison’s coat with one hand, effortlessly holding him still with one arm.

In front of them, Eliot just snickers.

“I’m not gonna let you fall,” Parker repeats. “Got it?”

“Got it,” Hardison says, torn between being very annoyed at her tactics, and very turned on by her strength and confidence.

“You should know better than to underestimate her,” Eliot says.

“We’re not usually moving on ice with death blades strapped to our feet!” Hardison defends.

Parker pulls him back up and rights his footing, giving him a soft smile that contrasts the chaotic mirth in her eyes nicely.

“Just hold my hand,” she says, reaching out and linking their gloved fingers together.

Hardison squeezes her hand tightly and nods.

“Slowly,” he says.

“Slow as a slug!” Parker agrees.

Hardison wrinkles his nose at the comparison to the slimy creature, but appreciates it all the same.

“I’ll be right here too,” Eliot says. “If you manage to fall even with Parker’s grip, you’ll fall into me, not the ice.”

“Normally I’d be all about that,” Hardison quips. “But it’s too damn cold and wet out here to lose any of our layers.”

“That five year old is in a leotard,” Parker points out, snickering.

“Well that five year old is clearly fueled by hellfire and sugar!” Hardison retorts. “You know demon spawn don’t feel the cold.”

“It’s not even technically below freezing out,” Eliot teases.

“Technically, my ass,” Hardison grumbles. “And aren’t you from Texas? How are you not cold??”

“Maybe” Eliot answers cagily.

Hardison just rolls his eyes.

“And this weather doesn’t even have a place on the top 10 coldest days of my life,” Eliot scoffs. “This is nothing.”

“Siberia?” Parker asks, still squeezing Hardison’s hand gently, just to remind him that she’s not letting go.

“Albuquerque,” Eliot says, eyes narrowing at the memory.

“How did you freeze in Alb…” Hardison asks, before shaking his head and refocusing on not falling down. “Never mind, I don’t even want to know,” he says.

“It’s a fun story, actually,” Eliot says. “Before the guys with rocket launchers showed up, anyway. There was this one girl that worked at the café in the hotel, and we…”

“Your girlfriend and boyfriend are literally right here,” Hardison says, rolling his eyes at where Eliot’s story is inevitably going.

“And she’s not,” Eliot says, “don’t be jealous.”

“I’m not jealous,” Hardison pouts jealously.

“You’re a little jealous,” Parker teases.

“Nothing to be jealous of,” Eliot says, shrugging.

He glides over to the other side of Hardison and takes his free hand in his own.

“No way you can fall down now,” he says.

“Don’t be cute when I’m annoyed at you!” Hardison says, huffing. “Your stupid cashmere scarf has no power over me when I’m this cold!”

“Come on,” Eliot says, tugging the three of them into a slightly faster pace. “We’ll get you nice and warm.”

To Hardison’s surprise, it actually is easier to skate once he’s comfortably balanced between Parker and Eliot. After a while, he even dares to let go of their hands and move on his own for a little while. He manages one whole loop of the rink without any assistance and whoops in joy, spinning shakily to face Eliot and Parker with a grin.

They loop around for another half hour or so, and by the end of it, Hardison is almost completely confident in his ability to stay on his feet. He watches in amusement as a group of teenagers try and fail to pickpocket Parker, and then shout in surprise when they find their own wallets and phones suddenly missing.

He’ll make sure Parker drops them at lost and found later. Probably. Maybe.

When he’s finally had enough, he pulls Parker and Eliot to side to lean against the wall.

“This was fun,” he admits, “even if I was a Grinch about it at first.”

“Ha!” Parker barks out in victory. “I knew you’d have fun!”

“Eventually,” Eliot adds. “But you definitely lasted at least twenty minutes longer than I expected.”

Hardison doesn’t bother following that remark up with the dirty joke he knows they know is running through his head.

“Time for hot chocolate now?” he asks, hopefully, giving them both his best puppy dog eyes.

Parker grins and give him a quick once-over with a heated glaze.

“Sure,” she says. “And then we can get those drinks after.”

“Parker!” Eliot whisper-yells, looking around for any prying ears of children.

“We can come back next weekend,” Hardison says to Eliot, nudging the other man gently with his shoulder and gesturing towards the exit. “But for now…”

“Van sex!” Parker says with delight, in a thankfully much lower voice.

“Van hand-stuff,” Eliot corrects. “I’m not cleaning up Lucille after full van sex again.”

“Fair enough,” Hardison says, but then reconsiders. “Maybe some van mouth-stuff too.”

“Well, we do have to take care of our girl,” Eliot nods, agreeing.

“Your girl appreciates it,” Parker says, grinning and pulling them over so they can get out of the way and get out of their ice skates.

As they make their way out of the rink, Hardison takes a moment to be grateful for his lovers, and for the fact that he fixed the heat in the van. No way he’s letting a little cold ruin the beautiful day it has become.


End file.
